Retribution
by savedbygrace94
Summary: They felt safe in the knowledge that Snow was dead, safe enough to bring children into a mending world, but is the Capitol ready to loosen its hold on what remains for its people? Haunting memories may not be the only force to contend with.
1. Chapter 1

_Cold, grainy, feelings beneath my feet, my hands. Air smells like fish, like salt, pushing against my skin, lifting my hair. Why why why. Clank Clank the battle axes wait. No, wait. Just tridents spearing dinner. Oh my, oh my, where has the time gone? How long till he comes back for me? He always comes back for me. _

Annie gasped as hands curled around her waist, pulling her from the hazy world of safety she so often came to visit when reality poured too much onto her frail shoulders. A voice whispered into her ear. "Hey, beautiful."

_Finnick_

Annie's shoulders relaxed and she giggled as Finnick's breath tickled her ear. She turned to meet his gaze. A smile was playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Got dinner." He said. A stupid grin spread across his lips when she wrinkled her nose at the smell of the offering, hanging from a rope by their gills.

"Tuna again." She murmured.

"I thought it was your favorite," He retorted.

"Too many favorites, darling. Why must you always resort to favorites? What about those things you neglect, don't they deserve a passing thought too?"

"Are you alright?" His face darkened with concern as he gently lifted her chin to meet his gaze. Those sea green eyes pierced through the last remains of the haze in her vision.

"I haven't been alright for many, many years."

He grinned. "That's alright, neither have I. We can be not alright together, okay?" He pulled her into an embrace, kissing the top of her head lightly. "I love you," He said quietly.

"I love you too, Finn." She murmured in response. His lips met hers with a gentle kiss that gained no fire the longer it lasted. Passion wasn't what either of them needed. The comfort that was the others warmth was enough.

They lay back in the sand together and listened as children's laughter spun harmonies with the cacophony that was their little strip of beach. Gulls squabbled, captains yelled, and mindless chatter wafted on the breeze. Annie closed her eyes and focused on listening for the easy rise and fall of Finnick's chest.

Her eyes shot open as she was jerked up into the air and dragged away from him. He was kicking and thrashing, screaming her name as the white suits attempted to hold him still. She cried out as a needle jabbed into his arm and his whole body went limp. It was then that Annie began to loose herself.

_Gloved hands holding me back, screams pour out of my mouth. The haze threatens to make its return. Not this time not this time. Scream again, I won't let you take him from me. _

They laid him out on a bed with a crimson goose down comforter and stripped him of his shirt. A screech cut through the air like a knife and a bouncing, pudgy little thing topped in lime green hopped up onto the bed and kissed him on the mouth, giggling as she came up for air, her tittering little voice spilling secrets into his ear. Twice more she planted kisses on his mouth till the white suits dragged her off.

A tail flicked from out of a fur-lined ensemble that slunk up onto his bed. He shuddered as claw capped fingers traced lines down his stomach and ran themselves through his copper curls. Lips met his mouth and cut off his already labored breathing. She bit his lip and purred into his ear before leaving him gasping for breath.

One by one they came and cut off his air. A parade of paint and dyes, wigs and surgically altered faces joined him on the bed and took a little more of his life from him. His chest would heave up and down as he would gasp to fill his lungs, pulling in air past white lips. Annie's sobs had long ago lost audibility though she could not tear her gaze from he who needed her so desperately.

Sickeningly sweet, the scent of roses, just as altered as their makers, preceded the entrance of Finnick's next visitor. The buds are the little mimics of the capitol's version of perfection; garish to those who know what scent their fragrance is meant to cover.

President Snow sat lightly on the edge of the bed and put his hand on Finnick's head, stroking it in a painful attempt at fatherly comfort as his pockets clinked with Capitol cash and Finnick's chest rose with a gasp under the weight of his secrets.

"Poison." The paralyzed slave gasped, looking with the eyes of a petrified sacrifice into the reptilian gaze of his master. Snow threw back his head with a laugh and spun to pin Finnick's arms to the bed. Blood dripped from those puffy lips onto Finnick's face.

Snow's back began to arch and his spine cracked and split. Annie watched in terror as the smart shoulders contorted into sloping masses of scales and his white hair spread down the tail that was forcing its way from his spine. His cackling grin turned into a snarl that slipped through bared fangs.

_Snake eyes snake eyes. _

Claws gripped Finnick's arms and threw him from the bed. He landed on he ground with a thud a few feet away from her. Annie resumed struggling to reach him as he pushed himself up on numb arms. The creature was on him before Finnick could get his legs under him. Claws wrapped around his neck, strangling his cry for help.

A sharp twist. A sickening snap. The strangled sob that forced itself through Annie's throat as she watched him fall to the ground. The air would not return to her lungs. Someone was screaming Finnick's name.

With a gasp she shot up straight in her bed and let loose another blood curdling scream. "Finnick!"

Feet pounded down the hallway and those wild, sea green eyes burst through the door. Within seconds his arms were around her and he hushed her screams. Sobs wracked her body as she clenched her eyes and teeth in an attempt to shut out the nightmare.

"It's okay. It's okay." He whispered and let her run her shaking fingers over his neck so she could be sure it was sound. Little by little she released the rigid hold she held over both of them and opened her eyes. A head of brown, mussed hair was pressed against her.

_Adrian. _

Annie's son looked up at her with his father's eyes and gave a faint smile. His name was not Finnick, but when his mother woke in the middle of the night screaming, or when she was in one of her hazes, he didn't hesitate to answer to his father's name.

"Are you okay, mom?" He asked. She nodded, still unable to make any sound beside a strangled little whimper. "I'm going to go make breakfast, okay?"

At sixteen, Adrian had been forced to often take on the responsibilities that were his mother's when she fell into her episodes. They usually didn't last long, but he made sure she was never hungry when she was unable to care for herself or him.

While he was frying leftover fish and eggs she shuffled into the kitchen and shooed him out to go get ready for school. Finnick wouldn't have wanted her to succumb and leave their son on his own for who knows how long until she felt she was ready to emerge again.

Adrian returned fifteen minutes later and they sat down to eat.

"How long?" She murmured.

"Two hours." He responded. That was how long it had taken her to open her eyes again after the nightmare. "Should I stay home today?"

"No." She replied firmly, planted a kiss on his forehead, and pushed him out the door. Adrian was all she had, and she was determined to do right by him.


	2. Chapter 2

Hunger Games Fan Fiction part 2: Johanna and Rille (r-ih-l)

Johanna gazed out the foggy window, the edges of the panes crystallized by the frost that had kissed all that it touched while they slept. At least the autumn weather didn't bring as many memories. Not like summer. The sunburns and therapeutic trips to the pond in the District 7 woods behind her house and occasionally the beaches of district 4 always brought up memories of loved ones the capitol had taken from her. She had long ago put the deaths of her biological family to rest in her mind, but for some reason Finnick's death had been a bit of an obstacle.

She never talked about him anymore, but whenever she wasn't otherwise occupied, thoughts of him drifted in to fill the void. Usually it was just stupid little memories that came up, like when Finnick convinced her to walk naked through a park in the capitol while she babbled about how she was "born to wear this outfit," or the time she convinced Finnick to play strip dinner at a capitol ball. He ended up in just a bowtie with a very smug look on his face. Or the time he bet her she couldn't harm him with a strand of her hair. He didn't make bets with her anymore after he got out of the hospital. She really missed him. He made all the mundane things the capitol required of its victors fun. Tears made Johanna's eyes glassy.

Something was jerking at her shirttail. "Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!" A little voice said. "Moooooooooooooommmmmmmmyyyyyy! MOM!"

"What?" Johanna exploded. "What do you want?"

"I'm hungry." The little girl said as she placed her chubby hands on her hips. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek and mud caked on her fingers. She looked up at Johanna with big brown eyes. "I'm going to die of spartavtion." She said dramatically.

Johanna rolled her eyes. "Starvation," She corrected. "Go wash your hands, I'll make you a sandwich."

The little girl grinned and skipped into the living room. Johanna sighed and took out a tray of cold meats and the loaf of bread. She heard the distinct click of the television being switched on.

"Rille!" Johanna yelled. "TV _off_. Go wash your hands!"

"Okayeeeee!" Rille yelled. The little patter of feet preceded the sound of running water. Johanna forced air out of her nostrils in exasperation. One night stands with stupid men named Klik while completely wasted are _not_ supposed to result in an eighteen year commitment. Especially not one that makes as many messes as Rille.

"Hurry up, Rille!" Johanna yelled. No response. "Rille! I'm going to eat your sandwich if you aren't in here in exactly ten seconds."

Rille's distinctive little pattering footfalls echoed off the hall. She plopped down in her chair. "Let me see them," Johanna said and peered at her daughter's outstretched hands, nodded when she deemed them acceptably clean, and slid the plate over to her. "Mom!" The four year-old exclaimed, looking from the gigantic bite mark in her sandwich to her mommy's bulging cheeks. "You ate it!"

"I sampled it," Johanna retorted from around the half-chewed mouthful.

"You ate like half of it." She whimpered.

"Oh stop it. Your stomach isn't big enough to hold that entire sandwich. Besides, it was mostly crust," Johanna replied, waving the sandwich up in the air expressively. Rille was about to respond when her eyes suddenly got bigger (if that was even possible), and she clutched at the front pocket of her overalls.

"Mommy, do you have a jar?"

"Why do you need a jar?"

She turned bright red and started to giggle. Johanna was about to question her when the answer exploded from Rille's pocket with a frantic _RIBBIT! _

Johanna screamed, grabbed a spatula, and swung it wildly at the slimy, wart covered little surprise. Rille's screams raised a pitch higher than Johanna's. "Stop it, mommy! Stop it! You're going to kill him!"

"That's the idea!" Johanna roared as she spatula made contact, turning the frog into a bumpy little projectile. It hit the wall with a thud. Johanna stood there, her "weapon" poised above her head like an axe, chest heaving, a wild look in her eyes. Even her hair looked crazed.

Wouldn't you know it, the frog got back up! Though it looked no worse for the wear on the outside, from the way it hopped right into the glass sliding door, Johanna was sure it hadn't escaped without brain damage. Rille was wailing something. "YOU KILLED MY PUPPY!" she sobbed, big tears rolling down her face.

Johanna pushed her bangs up out of her eyes. "That is a frog." She enunciated.

"His name was puppy!" She wailed. Johanna sighed and scooped up the now mentally challenged amphibian with the spatula and put him in the bushes.

"New house rule." Johanna said upon reentry. "The outside stays outside. That includes the wildlife and/or natives."

"You killed puppy." Rille whimpered.

"Your frog- I-I mean Puppy is not dead, just suffering from a small concussion."

"You gave my frog a corncushion?"

"A head booboo." Johanna corrected and looked at the mud that was once again caked on Rille's hands. Johanna got a towel and wiped her daughters tears from her cheeks and firmly instructed her to go wash her hands. After Rille disappeared around the corner Johanna began to wipe the mud off of the table. Suddenly Rille's voice rang out from the washroom. "Mommy! There's a puddle on the floor!"

Johanna groaned and grabbed a paper towel. Rille liked to over exaggerate. What she claimed was a puddle was most likely just a few drops of water having a little shindig on the floor. When she entered the hall her foot slipped and she landed with a thud on her backside, the impact sending a shock up her tailbone. She was sitting in an inch of water. A scream ripped out of her throat and she sloshed into the bathroom, grabbed Rille, and flew into the living room.

Sobs forced their way out of her throat as she held her baby to her tightly. She was huddled in the corner of the room. Her eyes were shut tight and she was shaking violently. "Are you okay?" She finally blubbered, still tightly holding Rille in her arms.

"I-I think I left the water on when I ran to eat my sandwich. I'm sorry Mommy!" Rille wailed hysterically.

"Are you okay?" Johanna said, sobs making her voice jerk.

"Yes." She whimpered. Johanna refused to let her go for another twenty minutes, but when she finally began to relax, Rille was still holding onto her tightly, terrified because her mommy was so scared.

"It's okay Rille," Johanna said, her voice still wavering with tremors. "It was just some water, that's all. Mommy just over reacted." There was nothing Johanna wanted to protect her daughter from more than the fear that plagued her every time she stepped into the shower. Rille looked up at her with big brown eyes before reaching up and wiping away the tears on Johanna's cheeks with her hands. Johanna pulled Rille into another hug. "I love you so much, baby." She said, her cheek pressed into the child's hair. When she finally released Rille, Johanna wanted nothing more than to go climb into bed for the rest of the day, but she knew she had to be functional for her daughter. Standing on unsteady feet, she gathered an armload of towels and threw them into the puddles on the hall and bathroom floors before reaching around the counter and shutting off the water.

Two excruciating hours later she had the floor dry and a very sleepy Rille in bed for a nap. When she finally collapsed onto the couch and allowed her mind to wander, she realized how much she really needed Finnick to be here. She needed his help getting through stuff like this. He was gone when she realized she was pregnant, he was gone when she went into labor, he was gone when Rille got the flu and was blowing chunks to accent the 103 degree fever she had, he was gone when it was raining outside and Rille wanted her mother to go out and play in it with her, he was gone when she needed comfort.

Tears began to fill her eyes and Johanna cruelly forced them down. Her problems were small compared to the ones Annie had to deal with daily. Annie. Her mind went back many years ago when Annie had told her to call if she ever needed something or just wanted to talk. Annie would understand what she was going through. Johanna stood and went to the counter, opened a drawer, and rooted around in it until she came up with a phone number on a piece of faded paper. She dialed the number. It rang four times before a soft little voice came onto the line.

"Hello?"

"Hi Annie…Its Johanna."

Johanna could almost hear the smile spread across Annie's face in faraway district 4.


	3. Chapter 3

Hunger Games Fan Fiction Part 3: Enobaria, Etan, and Eisen

**A/N: I do not own The Hunger Games. All characters except for the children (besides Peeta and Katniss' children, as well as Finnick's son who were mentioned in the epilogue or in Mockingjay) belong exclusively to her genius mind. **

_Wham!_

Etan grunted in satisfaction as his arrow hit the dummy square in the chest. He and his brother Eisen had tied the straw filled bundles to a low hanging tree branch and were using them for target practice. Twice more the already pin-cushioned dummies swung with the impact of his arrows. Etan reached back to his quiver and felt around for another shaft. Empty. Growling in dissatisfaction at his misfortune, he shuffled his feet over to where his extra quiver lay on the ground. Gripping it by the lip instead of the strap, he shuffled back.

Always the show off, Etan threw the quiver up in the air, bent on catching the strap in his now empty hand. He missed, and it landed with a resounding thump on his brother's right foot. Arrows spilled everywhere, his brother howling in pain, Etan couldn't help but cackle at the situation. He was rewarded with his brother's thick-soled boot connecting with his.

After the pain faded, Etan, face flushed, eyes flashing, punched his brother in the face, breaking his nose with a crack. "It was an accident you moron!" He screamed. When Eisen recovered, things more or less progressed into a meltdown of fury and punching. Noses were bloodied and eyes blackened, the growls coming out of their mouths sounding less like school boy fighters and more like seasoned warriors with a taste for blood.

It was at this moment that Enobaria decided to look out the window. Low and behold, her offspring were at each other's throats. As always, breaking up a fight rather than joining in was never Enobaria's style, so with the hairs on the back of her neck raised in anger and sheer animal instinct, she grabbed a wide, flat, wooden paddle that hung on a peg on the wall and ran out of the house.

Swinging madly, she lit into any part she could get at, bashing backs, arms, legs, heads, and butts if she could get to them, but still the boys continued to try and get hands around the others' necks.

Finally, after a resounding _crack_ right on Etan's shoulder, he paused his mad attempt to kill his twin and glanced at his mother. The sight was enough to make him recoil. Hands clutching the paddle (which had a bit of blood on it now), arms raised above her head, ready for the next strike, eyes feral and filled with an almost demonic amount of bloodlust, grey hairs springing out of her disheveled bun, filed fangs lining a mouth wide open in a battle cry. It was enough to strike fear into even the most stone-worthy of warriors and murderers.

Etan's pause was enough to give his brother the upper hand and Eisen had him pinned when the mad woman hit him so hard Etan could actually hear the crack of his brother's ribs. Eisen fell off of his brother and lay on the ground gasping for air. Enobaria raised the paddle for another strike on Etan when he cringed and held his hands up to protect himself. She threw the paddle across the yard. "Stop acting like wild animals!" She yelled. "You are human beings! Have some brotherly love or I swear I will kill you both here and now!"

She turned away from them, screaming obscenities at the sky and threatening them whenever she regained the frame of mind to do so. Finally she turned back to them, their faces frozen in wild fear of the fanged woman who birthed them. "I'm shocked you haven't killed each other already!" She yelled. "When I was your age I had more than my fair share of blood on my hands! I'm practically raising careers for all the rage you two have!" She stopped and narrowed her eyes at them. "And not even good ones. Neither one of you would have survived my games."

Eisen was still lying on the ground clutching his ribs, but he too had his eyes locked on his mother while she ranted.

Finally Etan spoke back. "Well obviously, she-beast! I don't even think you're human!" He yelled. She smacked him.

"Well you're half of whatever I am then, and don't even think about saying I'm not your mother! I know I remember forty-eight hours of labor and excruciating pain to push your big fat head out of me, and your brother was no walk in the park either. And for that I get sixteen years of your crap!"

Etan glared at her. "Little monster." She sneered. "Fine. If you two want to act like wild hellions, then you can live like wild hellions. Don't bother coming back inside tonight, the doors will be locked and I'll beat you if I find you inside until I invite you back into my house."

"You can't do that!" Etan exclaimed.

"I can and I will. I own you for two more years, you little devil. Both of you can clean the house when I let you back in. And if I hear any more mouth out of you, I'll send you out in the woods for a week!"

Etan snapped his jaw shut and watched her stalk back into the house and slam the door shut. His mother the hero. Eisen was still moaning faintly, and the welts from the paddle were starting to sting. "Witch." He whispered after her before kicking his brother's boot and picking up his quiver. One of them had to find dinner and it certainly wasn't going to be his duplicate.

**Review if you wish to. I hope I've entertained you with these lead in vignettes as much as I've been entertained writing them. **


	4. Chapter 4

Hunger Games Fan Fiction Part 4: Gale, Briallen, & Ardinn

**A/N: I do not own The Hunger Games. All characters except for the children (besides Peeta and Katniss' children, as well as Finnick's son who were mentioned in the epilogue or in Mockingjay) belong exclusively to her genius mind.**

Gale's ears perked up at the sound of screams past the running water of his shower.

_The girls!_

Throwing open the bathroom door, he careened down the hall in nothing but his boxer shorts and burst through the screen door in a flurry of panic. "Ardinn!" He yelled. Another screech came from his eldest daughter Briallen as Ardinn ran at her, one of Gale's arrows stationed in her grip, a colander on her head.

"Die, mutt! Die!" She screamed, laughing like the six year old she was.

"Get that thing away from me!"

Gale reached his youngest in three strides and plucked the arrow out of her hand right as she was about to make another rush at her sister. Staring uncomprehendingly at her now weaponless hand, her head slowly tilted up until she tipped over and landed on the bare feet of her giant adversary. Gale was wearing a glare of disapproval. Or at least what he was trying to make look like a glare. He was really trying to suppress a laugh, but the combination of feigned disapproval mixed with giggles just made him look like he had gas. He cleared his throat.

"Ardinn," he began, still trying to regain control over his look of amusement as he removed the colander from her head. "Chasing your sister around with my arrows is a very bad thing."

"Then why are you laughing?" She said a little too innocently.

Gale's face lost the smirk. "Well, Briallen's face was amusing, but your actions on the other hand, were not." She nodded solemnly. "This." He held the arrow up in front of her then paused to study the shockingly orange and pink coat of finger paints that decorated the shaft. This time it was Ardinn that suppressed a giggle. Gale cleared his throat again. "We have paper for this type of creativity, Ardinn."

"I just thought you would be able to fetch them easier now they aren't hiding."

"The idea being that I could see them, as well as everything I'm trying to shoot?" Gale questioned with a pained laugh.

She looked down at her toes. "Mommy would have liked them." She mumbled.

Gale's face softened. "Yes, mommy would have loved them very much." He said gently and sat Ardinn on his knee. "Mommy also would have been mad at you for playing with daddy's arrows."

"I'm sorry, daddy." She responded.

"I forgive you, baby. Those are dangerous weapons, you shouldn't ever play with them."

"Yes, daddy."

"Now apologize to Briallen."

"Sorry, Bri."

Gale nodded in satisfaction and sent Ardinn back into the house to wash up for breakfast. Briallen followed, but not before throwing an alarmed look at her father. Her face became smug. "Um, dad?"

"Yeah?"

"How about some pants?"

"Oh."

Gale quickly went back into the bathroom, kicked Ardinn out with soap still on her hands and instructed her to rinse at the kitchen sink. He took a quick shower to wash off the grime from the morning's hunt and put on his military suit. Today was the anniversary of the day the capitol fell. He and his family were expected to go to the District 2 town hall in order to hear the solemn presentations and reminders of their past. Afterwards there was a party.

Gale pulled his collar straight with a tug and walked out of the room. The girls had already begun to lay the fresh wild boar steaks he had cleaned just this morning in the skillet next to eggs.

"Well don't you look dapper." Briallen said with a grin.

Once they were all seated and eating, they struck up a polite conversation, which somehow ended up with Ardinn singing the entire valley song at the top of her lungs. After they got through with breakfast, Gale sent both of his girls off to get ready while he cleaned up the mess. If she were still alive, Morgan would have him doing this very thing while she helped the girls get ready. She was always the best at that. Gale sighed and dried the dishes. Briallen's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Well?"

Gale turned his gaze onto them. "You both look beautiful."

Both of the girls were wearing dresses, Briallen in blue and Ardinn in yellow. Their hair was braided. Ardinn did a little twirl giggling, then caught sight of Gale's bow in the corner and made a beeline for it. "No, no, no, no!" Gale said and scooped her up, placing her on his shoulders. "Time to go." When Briallen passed him, Gale turned to her and whispered that she looked just like her mother. And she did. She was tall and blue eyed, her long blonde hair done up in braids.

The walk to the town hall was anything but private. Most families were leaving their homes at the same time Gale's was. When they got to the crowded hall, Briallen went straight to a group of girls from school, and Gale found the seats that were reserved for him and his family, as he was one of the guests of honor because of his part in the rebellion. Ardinn perched herself on his knee so she could play with the buttons and medals on his uniform. A kid, no older than Briallen, found his family's set of seats next to Gale's and plopped down in one, leaving a space between them.

For a while the kid just fiddled with his shirt buttons, like he didn't enjoy the fact that his mother had made him button it all the way up. Finally he just undid three of the buttons and looked up at the group of girls. One of them giggled and Briallen rolled her eyes and turned around. Gale observed the kid's lustful stare at his daughter's behind for a few moments before leaning over to him.

"Pretty, isn't she?"

"Yeah." The boy said.

"However, it isn't polite to undress girls with your eyes."

"Is it really that obvious?" The kid rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yes."

"I didn't mean to, I guess."

"Lies don't win you brownie points."

The kid paused for a moment and looked at Gale from head to toe. "No disrespect or anything, sir, but what business is it of yours?"

Gale grinned wryly before setting Ardinn down on the chair next to him and handing her a bag of dried cereal so he could face the kid. He settled down into the folding chair next to the boy, the plastic creaking under his muscular frame. If anything, the seamstress that had altered his uniform a few years back had had to let out the seams near his shoulders because they had grown broader since his rebellion years. "Do you know why I keep in such good shape?"

"To pick up chicks?" The kid replied, obviously trying to not seem intimidated.

"Seriously? That's your answer? Dude, I was in the group that took out President Snow, I helped build bombs and traps so good it would make your big old head spin. Do you really think I would need biceps to get a girl?"

"Can't hurt can it?"

"Believe me, I don't need any more girls. I've already got two at home." Gale replied nonchalantly.

The kid's eyes got wide. "Really?"

"Yeah, sure. But still that's not the reason why I keep my body in shape while I let my hair get grey around my temples."

The kid crossed his arms, waiting for the reply. "I let my hair go grey because it makes me look distinguished, and I keep my arms big enough to crush a skull so when some punk with half his scrawny chest showing starts imagining things he wants to do with my daughter's panties I can honestly tell him that I will kill him without hesitation and he will believe me."

The satisfaction Gale got from the way the kid's face paled was enough to make him grin to himself and move over so Briallen had to sit in the chair right next to the subdued kid. Before she sat down, Gale gave him a pat on the back hard enough to leave a bruise and make him grunt like a hog. Briallen, unaware of what her father had done, made a face when she heard the boy's embarrassing noise. Gale grinned to himself again just as the music began to play.

After four hours of listening to some historian reiterate a long story that Gale himself lived out and watching like twenty clips—mostly propos that he was in with Katniss—they watched the fated execution of Coin and Snow and the boring man at the podium brought out a special addition to the program. In a slow voice, he informed us all that an investigation showed that it was indeed Coin who dropped those parachutes in a show of military force. Gale's jaw dropped and as soon as the lights came back on he grabbed his girl's wrists and pulled them out of the hall in an effort to get home before anyone would have the chance to question him about the trap. All those years of holding himself responsible for Prim's death. Now he knew it was true. That was his bomb. The relief of knowing that Coin's death was justified was overcome by the horror of the realization that it was his creation that killed those children, those EMTs, Katniss's sister. The burns Katniss had to deal with every day held no flame to the torment in his heart. The guilt.

He wanted nothing more than to go home and lock himself in his room, but knowing his girls needed stability after the death of their mother, he settled for complaining of a headache and a nap on the couch. Thankfully he didn't have to wait long for sleep.

His dreams were filled with snares laced with explosives. Of burns and detached body parts and blood. So much blood. At one point, Prim came to him and took his hand off the detonator he had just used to blow up the children. She was burning with fire, tears rolling down her ashen cheeks, the flesh melting off her bones. Her skeletal fingers left a bloody smear on his cheek.

He woke up, his hand gripping the wrist of a very startled and very bloody Ardinn. Gale gasped in shock before his eyes settled on the smashed tube of lipstick in her hand. It wasn't blood that had been smeared around her mouth, but cosmetics. Gale rubbed his eyes as his stomach settled back where it should be and sat up.

"Ardinn, why on earth are you playing in Briallen's make-up? You've been told at least six times that you are not to be in that."

"It's okay dad," she responded. "Bri told me I could play with it if I let her and her friend play alone for a while."

"What friend?" Gale said and ran his hands through his hair. "I thought everyone would still be at the party."

"I don't know his name. But I can ask him if you want."

"_HIM?_"Gale exclaimed, his eyes shooting open.

"Yeah, why?"

Gale stood and sprinted into the hall, threw open the door to Briallen's room without knocking, and took in the scene. Punk kid was on Briallen's bed, on top of her, his tongue probably halfway down her throat by now. Gale drug him off the bed by his foot letting his punk face hit the floor before he pulled him down the hall and physically threw him out the front door with a promise that if he ever went near his daughter again he would personally castrate him with a burning butter knife. After slamming the door he stomped back into the hall. He caught his reflection in the mirror on the wall. Ardinn had managed to place a few swipes of the lipstick on his cheek and the corner of his mouth. His eyes looked crazy and his hair was matted to his head with sweat. He actually looked like a rabid killer who drank the blood of his victims. All the better. He thought wryly and continued on his trip down the hallway. His eyes caught all the disturbances the punk's impromptu exit had caused. A table knocked over, the rug completely misplaced and crinkled. Evidence of the kid's bloody nose smeared the floorboards. When he reached Briallen's room he found her still sitting on her bed, mouth open, eyes wide with shock.

"What on earth were you thinking?" He exploded. She glared at him and sat back on the bed.

"I'm not a child anymore, I can make my own decisions!" She retorted.

Gale threw his hands up in the air. "Sorry I didn't realize thirteen was the new thirty! And, oh yes, by all means sell yourself to every punk that undresses you with his eyes!"

"Dad!" She exclaimed. "How dare you!"

"Oh yes, Briallen is so grown up now! When I was your age my father was dead and I was forced to break the law to try and feed my mother, my newborn sister, and two boys by myself! I was not grown up enough to handle that and I know that now though I didn't want to admit it then. I went though a war so that would never happen to you! I watched people I cared about suffer, I took bullets, I took on a stinking regime so that someday when I had children my daughters wouldn't have to grow up in the seam and sell themselves to peacemakers in an effort to get food! You are not grown up if you make decisions like that when you have a full belly and a roof over your head."

"The world has changed, Dad. I liked him and it's my choice if I want to kiss him or invite him over!"

Gale swore before checking himself and sitting on the bed next to her. "You invited a boy over, snuck him into your room, _while _I was asleep on the couch after learning something that validated all of my fears from my past, then let him stick his punk tongue in your mouth! How much further would you have been willing to go?"

"Dad!" Briallen screeched.

"Gosh Briallen! I thought I'd raised you better than that."

She didn't respond. He put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples with tense fingers. "What am I going to do with you?" He lamented.

"I wish mom were here." Briallen whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"We all do! But that's not going to change the fact that she's gone, Bri! We have to get on with our lives and try to weigh each action as though she were watching us. Would she have approved of what you pulled just then?"

Briallen suddenly turned towards him, anger in her eyes. "Why do you always do that?" She yelled. "Why do you always have to make her out to be some sort of example to live by and keep us at a distance! I miss her, okay? I miss how she would hug me and give me advice on how to deal with crap like this not just parrot out a 'life moves on' mantra like nothing that isn't here and now actually happened and means anything. Not everyone is as jaded as you are, Gale. And that's probably a good thing."

Gale sat there for a few moments waiting for the appropriate response to come to him. Nothing was forthcoming, so he just stood up and left the room. After having stationed himself on the living room couch in complete silence for nearly twenty minutes, Ardinn came in and situated herself on his lap.

"I promise I don't like boys, Daddy." She said and looked up at him with such a solemn expression Gale couldn't help but smile.

He gave her a kiss on the forehead and sent her off to play. He watched her play with dolls and a little bow and arrow he had fashioned for her. "Don't grow up too fast, Ardinn." He whispered.


End file.
